


Roses are Blue

by Dawn on ICE (Dawn_Blossom)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (we're all counting the rings as the first proposal right), Happy Ending, M/M, and then it gets better, it's sad for like 2 seconds, proposal, well... a second proposal I mean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 21:20:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11067369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dawn_Blossom/pseuds/Dawn%20on%20ICE
Summary: ’Blue roses are nothing but white roses pretending to be something they’re not,’26-year old Victor Nikiforov thinks as he’s handed another bouquet of the flowers he’s come to loathe.’They’re fake and boring, just like what I’ve become.’





	Roses are Blue

**Author's Note:**

> This is STILL not the fic I'm trying to work on, but I started thinking about how everyone runs with the blue rose motif for Victor and... I just get very sad about him sometimes (I have a playlist and everything because this happens a lot haha...)
> 
> But I don't like sad endings, so my original thoughts rapidly turned into... this. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Check out my YOI blog if you want: [@dawnonice](http://dawnonice.tumblr.com)

_’Blue roses are unique,’_ 15-year old Victor Nikiforov thinks as he demands that Yakov bring him some at his next competition. _’They’re beautiful and special, just like me.’_

He makes sure everyone knows that he only wants blue roses. Red roses? So cliché. Blue irises? Ew, no. Blue roses are _his_ thing now. No skating fan should be able to see one without thinking of him.

(They say blue roses represent the unattainable. The extraordinary. This is what they say Victor is, too. Unattainable and extraordinary.)

Victor is young. He makes flower crowns for himself and his dog. He takes a thousand pictures, all smiles. He’s beautiful and he’s happy.

* * *

_’Blue roses are nothing but white roses pretending to be something they’re not,’_ 26-year old Victor Nikiforov thinks as he’s handed another bouquet of the flowers he’s come to loathe. _’They’re fake and boring, just like what I’ve become.’_

He paints on a smile as the cameras flash at him. He’s a rose past his prime. He can paint himself blue all he wants to conceal the fragile petals and sickly veins, but no amount of paint can keep a flower from wilting as it begins to die.

(Is Victor unattainable? Only because he can’t keep anyone close. Is he extraordinary? Extraordinarily lonely, perhaps.)

Victor is old, by competitive standards. It’s still him and his dog. He takes ten thousand pictures for his fans, always putting on his prettiest fake smile. He stays beautiful, but he’s empty.

* * *

28-year old Victor Nikiforov hardly notices the roses his fiancé is pressing into his hands, too lost in Yuuri’s eyes.

“Are they okay?” Yuuri asks worriedly, as if Victor could ever possibly hate anything Yuuri has given him. “I didn’t know what to get. I… I knew you wouldn’t want blue…”

(Communication may not be their strong suit, but they’ve talked about _this._ )

Victor looks down at the bundle of white roses, and he smiles a real, genuine smile.

Victor had been a dying rose, but Yuuri had nurtured him back into bloom, had washed away the dye that stained him and accepted him as he was.

( _”I just want you to be yourself.”_ )

This is his new beginning.

“I love them, Yuuri,” he says, wrapping his arms around his fiancé. “I love you.”

* * *

29-year old Victor is struggling to hold back tears as he embraces his fiancé after Yuuri’s most beautiful performance yet.

His most beautiful, _gold-winning_ performance at the Grand Prix Final.

“As your fellow competitor, I respect you, Yuuri,” Victor says as seriously as he can manage when he can feel his emotions are on the brink of spilling over. “As your coach I’m proud. And as your fiancé, I— I’m so awed— I— Mmph—“ Victor is cut off when a tearful Yuuri smashes their lips together.

“I’m sorry; I couldn’t hold back any longer,” Yuuri apologizes when he breaks the kiss. “It’s just— When you look at me like that, VItya—“ Yuuri is cut off when Victor returns the favor and crashes their lips together again.

“We have to plan the wedding,” Victor breathes when they reluctantly pull away from each other.

“Yeah,” Yuuri agrees softly, gazing at Victor with eyes full of love.

“I— I have something for you!” Victor says quickly, reaching into his bag. “We already have our rings and I refuse to let either of us take them off, so I got you something else instead.”

He gets down on one knee, looks up at the love of his life, and presents a box.

“Yuuri, I’ve told you before, and I’ll tell you again. You taught me the meaning of life and love. I want to be with you forever. Will you marry me?” Victor asks, opening the box to reveal a rose coated entirely in gold.

Once, Victor had been a blue rose, beautiful but artificial. Then, he had been a white rose, ready to begin his life anew by Yuuri’s side. But Yuuri, Yuuri had always been gold. And just by being with him, Victor feels like he’s become gold, too. 

“Yes, of course,” Yuuri whispers, taking the rose carefully into his hands. “I love you, Vitya.”

_’Eternity roses are forever,’_ Victor thinks as he rises to his feet, Yuuri’s arms already wrapping around him. _’They will never wilt or die, just like my love for Yuuri.’_

Victor melts into his fiancé’s embrace, and he is happy.


End file.
